


All the Blurry Lines in Between

by Duplicitouscat



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Coming of Age, Drama, F/M, Masturbation, Romance, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-06
Updated: 2015-01-27
Packaged: 2018-03-06 07:13:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3125612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Duplicitouscat/pseuds/Duplicitouscat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A story about the romantic and sexual evolution of Iris and Barry's relationship. POVs will vary.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Deepest Corners of My Mind

The night had started out great—it really did.  Eddie brought her flowers-- red roses--which if she was being honest, were not her favorite.  But they were arranged beautifully, and she could tell Eddie went out of his was to make sure they were perfect.  Actually, Iris should have felt truly, deeply ashamed.  She should have been begging for forgiveness instead of attempting to nit-pick Eddie’s lovely gesture.  After all, she’s the one who forgot it was their anniversary.  She felt it odd to celebrate a sixth month anniversary, but that was probably just a futile attempt to excuse her un-thoughtfulness on the occasion.

               

Maybe she forgot because, sadly, Eddie was not foremost on her mind lately.  That honor had been bestowed upon the mysterious, heroic, man-of-speed now known as The Flash.  The fact of the matter was, Iris and Eddie’s relationship was strained and Eddie knew it and she knew it.  They barely saw each other three short times within a week, on average, and that was infrequent...especially considering Eddie worked with her dad and Barry.  They fell into the same routine, recycling the same old tales: he was working round-the-clock on a case, she had to pull a double at Jitters or pull an all-nighter for school, he’s too tired, and/or she’s exhausted… excuses spilled from their tongues as easily as breathing. 

 

Except Eddie was genuinely upset and disappointed when he had to cancel on Iris, whereas Iris—well, she didn’t mind at all.  It just gave her more time to focus on her blog and her secret meetings with The Flash, both of which, she was convinced, existed inextricably in tandem with one another.  But recently she found herself fantasizing _perhaps too_ often about the man in the red suit.  It was just weird how she felt like she _knew_ him already, on an intrinsic level.  Yes, he was exciting--the mere concept of him alone, but also she just felt a pull beyond her physical attraction to him.  And if she didn’t know better, she would say it was mutual.

 

But in terms of actual relationships with men it was pretty simple: The Flash was the fantasy, Eddie was the reality.  Still, just knowing it was possible to feel such a strong dynamic with another guy made her question if she was wasting her time settling for ‘just comfortable’ with Eddie.  Nevertheless, Iris liked to think of herself as a committed, faithful girlfriend, not some wishy-washy trollop. And she was a one-man woman, no doubt about it.  She just needed to do some soul searching and figure out if she still wanted Eddie to be that man.

 

Then, after tonight’s events, she just knew the universe must have been sending her a message.

 

Iris had been just two drinks in, well four if you count the two shots of tequila she had as a jump starter.  She and Eddie were out on the dance floor, taking full advantage of the euphoric buzz of the alcohol.  Iris loved to dance and she was pretty darn good, finding her rhythm and keeping it effortlessly.  Eddie did the best he could, and to his credit he managed to make Iris look better while somehow not looking like a total klutz. They danced close, playfully grinding into one another every once in a while. It was not dirty dancing by any means, but filled with enough flirtation and innuendo to keep things interesting.

 

Just when they were really getting into their groove, suddenly, Eddie was distracted by a tap on the shoulder.  He turned to find a fair skinned woman, almost his height in heels, with a blonde bob, and wearing a bold black sequin dress that was incredibly short.

 

“Sophia?! Oh wow, hey! Good to see you.”  “Hi Ed- _ward,”_ Sophia replied flirtatiously stressing the second syllable.  Sophia leaned in for a hug, wrapping her arms around Eddie.  Eddie initially tensed but then softened into the short embrace. “Sophia, I would like you to meet my girlfriend Iris.”  Eddie smiled proudly as he spoke, causing Iris to chuckle lightly.  “Hi, Sophia.  It’s a pleasure to meet you.”  Iris shook her hand politely.  Sophia responded by covering Iris’ hand with both of her hands in what Iris deemed a surprisingly warm gesture.  “The pleasure is mine, truly,” Sophia smiled confidently, giving Iris a brief once over. 

 

“Well I see you waste no time…,” she mumbled to Eddie under her breath, then turned to face Iris’,”… but I can totally understand why, you are _gorgeous_.” Iris furrowed her brows slightly in curiosity of her remark.  “Tell me something I don’t know,” Eddie wooed, in complete agreement and utter admiration of his lovely girlfriend.  “ _Sooo_ how do you two know each other,” Iris inquired almost as if it were standard protocol for these situations.  “We went to college together.  It’s been…what…eight years now that we’ve known each other,” Sophia says exchanging a questioning glance with Eddie.  “Yeah about that,” he nodded.

 

“Did you guys _daate_??  I mean he lets you call him _Edward_ for crying out loud,” Iris laughed, highly amused at the potential awkwardness.  “Ha-ha.  Yeah I guess it’s pretty obvious.  We dated during our junior and senior year.  We had some fun, and thankfully I think we’d both agree it ended on mutual, very friendly terms,” Eddie shared, obviously seeking confirmation from his ex about their break up.  “Oh definitely!  I have nothing but fondness for Edward,” Sophia assured, a little too enthusiastically for Iris’ comfort.   

 

Iris was not the jealous type.  She wasn’t intimidated by Sophia or her past with Eddie. Somehow she just got the impression that Sophia still harbored some unresolved feelings about how their relationship ended.  This theory being evidenced by Sophia’s previous hushed comment which ridiculously suggested that Eddie rushed into dating Iris, _despite the fact that Sophia and Eddie dated at least six damn years ago??!_   _Huh??_ It made her more uncomfortable _for Sophia_ more than anything else.   

 

Iris figured she’d give them some time to talk, allowing Sophia the opportunity for more closure, if that’s what she needed. “Would either of you like a drink? I’m headed over to the bar.” Trading glances, the two in question finally declined her offer and decided to continue their conversation finding a table near the perimeter of the dance floor.  Iris weaved her way through the crowded dance floor over to the bar lined with top shelf liquor. She ordered three more shots of tequila with lemon. Several men had approached Iris, asking for a dance or her number, or for her to become their newest baby mama.  If she didn’t laugh in their face, she flashed her winning smile and just said she was a lesbian, and knew how to use her gun.  Every now and then she’d glance over to Eddie and Sophia, who, by the looks of things, _really did_ need closure.  They appeared to be engaged in an intimate and somewhat heated discussion.  Naturally, Iris was curious about their conversation, but not suspicious at all. In fact, it scared her how little she cared about whatever the depth of their connection was at that moment.

 

With the tequila working, Iris’s thoughts drifted predictably near the gutter as she slouched on the barstool and rested her head in her hand. She thought about the Flash and his not-so-subtle flirtations and advances towards her and how she wished she could follow through on her baser instincts.  She laughed to herself when thinking about what Barry might say to her in this state.  She really wasn’t sure what he’d say.  He certainly didn’t seem to think highly of the Flash _or Eddie for that matter_.  She could tell he feigned support of her romantic relationships, like any brotherly best friend would, she figured.  But—admittedly, that was a bullshit sentiment. Barry was just an altogether different _thing._  

 

 

[ _Iris Remembering…]_

 

Yeah they’d known each other for years, growing up in the same house, and it was tempting to say he was ‘like a brother’.   But that was grossly oversimplifying what they had, because there were several times when they had come dangerously close to something…very unwholesome, very much the opposite of normal sibling behavior.  Iris had lied for so many years telling herself that she wasn’t attracted to Barry, but even before he moved into the West home she had thought he was cute.  And even long after Barry became a part of the household--that never changed.

 

Over the years of living in such close proximity and sharing a bathroom, Iris had caught Barry masturbating so many times she’d lost count.  Initially she was grossed-out, just because she’d never actually seen a boy do that, well, in person (she’d only seen male masturbation on some HBO shows and movies during the cable company’s free preview week on the nights when Joe would work late). She’d yell “Barry, you’re being nasty!” Poor Barry looked like a baby deer caught in headlights.  “I’m sorry, Iris”, he’d say while hanging his head, his cheeks strawberry red. Then as they approached the high school years, she’d sometimes just clear her throat loudly with dramatic flair to alert him of her impending presence.  _Sometimes--_ when her curiosity got the better of her-- she’d press her ear to the wall to listen to the noises he made, or worse yet she’d stand in front of the cracked bedroom door and watch him pleasure himself.  She never saw any real nudity, always him in bed under the covers or with his back to the door, hunched over the side of the bed. Every once in a while, if she was able to see the expression on his face as the reached his orgasm, she’d feel a throbbing sensation in her center.  She’d felt especially awkward in her interactions with Barry after one of these incidents.   

 

Iris knew about female masturbation from an early age. Probably not unlike many young girls, she had very innocently found a spot that ‘felt good’… especially if there happened to be a blanket or pillow bunched up between her legs and she rubbed against it. Iris had been doing this for years before she actually realized what she was doing after overhearing some future-slut girls talking in sixth grade.  All that time she thought what she was doing was ok, her secret place that made her feel better, but then she started to feel guilt and embarrassment…like she was abnormally sexual for her age. Thankfully she quickly got over her shame after discussing the topic with some of her female friends.

 

As they grew into adulthood, Iris would catch herself visually taking in the entirety of Barry, just, well…pretty much ‘checking him out’.  She’d notice him doing the same-- _quite_ a damn bit actually.  They’d had their share of optical fuckery for sure. But the pair of them had become so good at skating around the tension, that they could have won an Olympic medal.  But alone, in the dark of her room, usually on nights when Barry met up with one of his academic clubs before a competitive event and years later when he moved out of the house, she would think of him--despite all attempts to think of almost anyone else. 

 

What started as a dream would then become the subject of frequent fantasies: They didn’t speak a word to each other.  He was using his hands on her breasts and nibbling on her neck. She’d straddle him on the bed so that her labia was right above in his face. He’d grab her ass and press her into his mouth eagerly. She’d whimper, take short hard breaths, roughly grab tufts of his hair-- overwhelmed at the skill of his tongue-- while she used her free hand to reach his erection and pump him mercilessly.  Then suddenly she’d hear the loud grunts and moans that sounded strangely familiar.  Just as he was about to explode she’d move back to straddle his waist, taking him inside her in one smooth motion. And she’d watch, entranced with his beautiful face in ecstasy, his eyes closed, his lips swollen and slick with her essence.   

 

That’s all it would take before Iris would lose herself all over her battery operated toothbrush.

 

 

[ _Back to Iris at the bar_ …]

 

The liquor seeming to have ravaged all good sense, Iris shook her head trying to rid herself of her inappropriate thoughts.  But that was impossible.  Barry never left her mind.  He was always there in some way, and if that was wrong, she had no intention of being right. She’d be giving up her world’s brightest sun, its fullest, most radiant moon. Not in this lifetime or any other, not when she had already come _so close_ to living out her days in a dull, black void of existence without him.

 

Iris scaned the crowd in search of Eddie.  He was dancing—with Sophia.  It was worth noting that whatever Iris and Eddie lacked in passion earlier on the dance floor, he and his ex more than made up for.  They might as well have been naked in a bedroom as far as she was concerned.  Iris knew Eddie had to be drunk out of his mind, so he and Sophia must have ordered more drinks from their table while she was at the bar. Iris made her way over to them.  “Heey guys, I’m sorry to interrupt. Eddie, the bartenders changed shifts and the new guy insists on seeing my ID… flattering but annoying, I know…but I think I left it in the car.”  Iris lied.  She wanted to get Eddie alone without coming off like a possesive girlfriend, because she wasn’t. “Don’t worry we can order whatever you want,” he assured with a silly grin and glazed eyes.  “Well I just want to make sure my ID actually is in the car and I didn’t lose it.  Would you mind looking with me, I would do it myself, but I’ve had a few myself and a second pair of eyes would be helpful.” 

 

“Just go with her already, the sooner you do, the sooner we can finish what we started,” Sophia stresses rudely, the venomous suggestion behind her words was no mistake.  Iris ignored her completely, fractionally in part because there was no way she’d give her the satisfaction of a petty reaction, but mostly because Iris was genuinely indifferent and unthreatened by Sophia. 

 

Iris has seen Eddie intoxicated on a few occasions and to an outsider he looks fine, he can walk, talk, function normally on a mental and physical level.  On an emotional plane however, drunk Eddie is a ticking time bomb—an unstable short fuse of simmering emotions. As Eddie and Iris walk outside, Eddie calls her bluff.  “I know you have your ID Iris so what’s the real problem here.” Iris looks him in the eye. “First of all you’re drunk, too drunk.  Second, I just think it’s surprising that at no point after I left you guys for the bar, did you seem concerned or interested in my return.” Eddie scoffs loudly. “You can handle yourself, and you know it, don’t play the damsel card just because you’re jealous of Sophia.”  “I’m not playing the damn _damsel_ \--that word isn’t even in my vocabulary. I’m telling you what you don’t want to hear. And this whole night is really ironic considering you planned this to be a special anniversary date, one that I admittedly thought was a little desperate, but also sort of adorable. Look, I know we’ve been going through a rough patch and I don’t want to argue, I don’t.  But I need to know where we stand. I’m fine with taking a break if that’s what you want-.” Eddie took a few seconds to respond, but Iris knew he was livid at her suggestion. “Ok, Iris, we can take a break. A nice looong break.  Happy now, Iris?!  You can go run to your poor Barry and give him that mercy fuck he’s been dying for!  Or no…maybe _the Flash_ , if you can pin him down. Heh. Bet you can’t wait to get on your knees and suck his—“

 

Iris slapped Eddie so hard her hand imprint was burned into the left side of his face and her hand pulsed with prickling pain.  She glared at him like he was lower than shit smeared on a sidewalk.

 

Eddie instinctively rubbed his face where it was seared by Iris’ small but mighty hand. “You’ve held out on me all these months, and I knew why.  I always felt it.  You weren’t ever really into the relationship. I was just someone to distract from what you want but can’t have.  Wow, and you know what the worst part is--- now I have to deal with the wrath of _kin_ g Joe.  He’ll probably have me transferred to another precinct.” Iris remains silent, which alone speaks volumes. After a short while Eddie finishes. “I don’t care what Joe says, I did love his daughter.” Eddie looked heavily at Iris. He was beside himself with anger, hurt, a sense of emptiness. “I’m sorry it didn’t work out, Eddie,” was all she was able to muster, still holding onto the hatred she felt towards him as he degraded her with insults moments ago.  Sophia ran out of the club as Iris headed back inside.  Iris looked back briefly and saw them head towards his car.

 

Yes, Iris was in distress, but make no mistake-- even though dry tears smudged her jet black eyeliner and mascara into a horror show-- she was no victim. She was newly single, and eventually she’d make the most of it.  At that moment though, what she was certain of is that she was probably done with nightclubs. Besides, she _really_ hated dubstep, which the DJ had been playing steadily for the last hour. The music throbbed in time with her increasingly intense headache, as she reflected hazily on the night’s events. 

 

She just wanted to be home in the comfort of her favorite pajamas.  She pulled her phone from her small clutch and called the only person she could call, the only one she wanted to call and, in a way, the last person she had any right to call----- Barry.

 


	2. Anytime, Anyplace

It was 8:03 am when Barry woke up.  He was late _again_. There was a self-deprecating comfort in his consistency, he thought. 

 

The futon contraption was unforgiving at best, and it was a miracle that he slept one wink.  She was in his bed all night, sprawled across the mattress, sheets ruffled and pillows scrunched as if she had fought a war with them. 

 

[Last night…]

 

Her voice was strained.  “Barry, I’m _so_ sorry I know it’s late.” He could hear the steady thump of a beat as the background noise.  She was at a club. “What’s wrong, Iris?!  Are you okay?!”  He could feel the panic rising in his chest.  She was definitely not okay. “Eddie and I broke up. It was messy.  He left in the car we came in and I don’t have enough for cab fare.” Barry was an uneasy mix of disbelief, anger and relief.  He really _could not_ fathom how Eddie could just literally and figuratively dump Iris at some nightclub at 1:30 on the other side of town. “Don’t worry I’ll be there as fast as I can, stay inside.” “Okay, but Barry please don’t be reckless.  I need you alive!  I’m at Incognito, on W. Seventh. And _thank_ you.”

 

Barry knew he couldn’t use his speed to get Iris.  He was going to have to drive.  But he didn’t own a car _obviously_.  Barry ran to C.C.P.D., stealthily acquired a set of keys to one of the vehicles, and headed for the club.  Barry was amused by the irony of him driving a car, and how it was an inconvenience to be limited by its speed or lack thereof.  But he took full advantage of the police siren and his lighting reflexes, to deftly maneuver any and every traffic obstruction in his path. 

 

Under five minutes. He figured that wasn’t bad, considering the circumstances.  He parked down the street, checked for onlookers and passerbys, then zoomed to the entrance of the club.  _Incognito._   The name was an unwelcome reminder of just how much Iris didn’t know, but deserved to more than anyone else in his life.  Barry unsurprisingly walked into a clusterfuck, which is what all nightclubs usually were, especially at this hour. Couples were up against walls dry humping and tongue tangling.  He stuck out like a sore thumb in his jeans and Chuck’s, walking soberly towards the backlit bar. He sees her. She’s slumped over on the bar counter, head down resting on her forearms.  Before he can reach her, she lifts her head and turns directly to face him, as if she can sense his presence.  She smiles wearily, her expression tired and maybe _ashamed_?  She had been crying…her makeup was smudged.  To him she still looked beautiful, like a warrior princess, an _epic_ goddess in a gold dress.

 

“ _Oh_ my god.  It’s so good to see you. Thank you for coming, Bear.” She stands to latch onto Barry, wrapping her arms around him with vice-like strength.  Barry hugs her back, infusing his touch with all of the warmth and love he possibly can.  “Iris, _any_ time. I meant it, you have to know that. I’m really glad that you called.”  Barry looks her deep in the eye, as if willing her to understand that she never had to hesitate, knowing he would travel to infinity and beyond for this woman. 

 

They hastily scurried out of the club before their heads exploded from the incessant bass line, and headed towards their ride.  “I knew it! I knew you took a squad car,” Iris squealed. “Great minds”, Barry smiled brightly gesturing to his head.  “Well, honestly what other options did you have? I mean I guess you could have borrowed…maybe Caitlin or Cisco’s… _definitely_ not my dad’s, but this just made the most sense.  Plus it explains how you arrived in _record_ time.” 

They grinned, staring soul-searchingly at each other for a moment before he started the engine.  Barry didn’t know if he could do this anymore, he had to tell her _everything_ , and soon.

 

They drove, seated in contented silence for a bit, before Iris spoke again.  “You’re incredible.  You don’t know how much you mean to me.” Barry involuntarily swallowed, as Iris continued. “And thank you for not pressing me about what happened with Eddie.  I…just need really to sleep off the night, and medicate my _inevitable_ hangover.”   “Iris, you don’t have to tell me anything you don’t feel comfortable with..,” Barry tried to assure her in spite of himself; “…I mean I am always happy to listen.”  “Mmmhmm, I bet. You hated Eddie, Barry. And you’re definitely not going to love him if I tell you how…” Iris must have thought better of her next words. “ _What_ did he do to you?,” Barry snarled, somewhat taken aback by his own response. “Barry calm down he didn’t touch me, I promise.” “No, but he hurt you emotionally which is equally criminal.”  “Barry, _tomorrow_ , please.  I’m sorry…I think I unintentionally lured you into discussing Eddie.  But I’m not in a good headspace for it right now-- I’m all over the place.  And can I just crash at your apartment tonight, do you still have that Superman shirt?”  “Is Eddie a dumb bastard,” Barry quipped.  Iris smiled, pleased with how easy it was for them to make things light.

 

They dropped the police car back off, with Barry patting himself on the back for seemingly getting away with the temporary heist, and walked the short distance to his small apartment.  Once inside, he pulled the Superman shirt from his closet and motioned to his sleeping quarters. “You take the bed, I got the couch.” “ _Couch?_ Barry if you’re referring to that futon thing it’s _hard_ as a _rock_ I can’t let you sleep there.”  He thought ‘hard as a rock’ was a funny choice of phrase considering that is just what he’d be if he shared a bed with Iris. “It’s not bad. I crash on it all the time while I’m watching T.V. or reading.” “Ehh…okay, but you have a standing invitation to join me in _your_ bed.” “Understood and appreciated, but I think you are forgetting how much of a restless sleeper you are.”  “ _What_ ever…night, Bear,” Iris hugged him and tippy-toed to give him a kiss on the cheek. “Sweet dreams, Iris.”

 

 

Barry watched Iris sleep from where he unsuccessfully attempted to fall asleep.  He remembered watching her sleep when they lived in the same house for so many years.  When they were younger they’d sleep right beside each other on the couch, leaning in, each resting on the other’s head. Then when Barry was finally taller than Iris, she’d lean back on his chest while they were watching their favorite movies and shows.  Iris was always the first to fall asleep and the last one to wake up, so Barry would just smile contented as he watched the rise and fall of deep breaths and the peaceful softness of her face.  He laughed softly when she elbowed him trying to find the right position.  Apparently the right position expired after an hour or so, when a _new_ right position was required. Sometimes Barry was the one who required a new position when he’d find himself erect underneath her sleeping body.

 

Barry couldn’t help it.  He loved Iris so much, and naturally that manifested in a physical response.  She made him want to both bear-hug her and screw her brains out, in equal measure.  When he had the overwhelming desire to do the latter, he retreated to his room and repeatedly took to his handy work.  Sometimes he wondered if Iris had any idea how much time he spent masturbating, or if she had any inkling that she was the thought he pleasured himself to.  He hoped she didn’t otherwise she had definitely been playing a cruel game with him, wearing those words-on-ass pants and fitted tops with no bra around the house.  Joe definitely must have known what was up.  He had often told Iris to put more clothes on because the ‘temperature was going to drop’ later that day.  More like the temperature was rising in Barry’s pants.

 

Barry would watch the way other guys responded to Iris at their high school.  They’d smile suggestively and comment amongst each other.  She dressed pretty conservatively, except for the times when she had someone in particular that she wanted to impress, on those occasions she might wear a dress or skirt.  But she was always classy, even when she was sexy as fuck.  It drove Barry _in_ sane.  She managed to exist within this mythic realm of complementary opposites where she was flirtatiously dignified, seductively reserved, optimistically down-to-earth, unpretentiously brilliant.  To Barry she was a unicorn, a creature so amazing she shouldn’t be real.  Even if she could also be very stubborn and idealistic, which Barry quickly identified because he shared those traits.

 

He suspected that Iris may have thought about him _that way_ from time to time.  She was quick to dismiss other girls as not good enough for him.  And if he said nice things about their appearance, she’d scoff saying something like “She’s _not_ that pretty, Barry, I’m just saying...you’re using hyperbole with the word ‘lovely’ to describe her.”  And Barry, in frustration, would yell something like “Everyone can’t look as amazing as you do, Iris.  You’re an _anomaly_. So, yeah...there’s another SAT word to add to _hyperbole_.”  She’d just blush and look away in response.  Then he’d catch her eyeing him before he’d leave for the day.  She’d say “Barry you look good today, _really_ good.”  And the way she said it, well it made him have to excuse himself to the bathroom.

 

Tomorrow, _technically today,_ was the day-- Barry had decided. He was going to tell her.  He just can’t hold it inside anymore.  As he closed his eyes he thought of himself walking over to his bed, ducking under the covers, lifting his Superman shirt and eating her body for breakfast until she screamed for mercy. Then he’d do it all over again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all of the comments and kudos. They are very appreciated and very encouraging. Hope you are enjoying this fic!


	3. Underneath It All

Iris woke up to the smell of coffee brewing and sound of frantic footsteps.  Barry flashed past her view, shirtless, his waist wrapped in a towel and his hair dripping wet. She watched him scatter about for a while, smiling to herself---and would have continued to do so-- until she freaked when she saw him fidget with his towel.

 

“Morning, Barry!”  Barry whipped his head around in surprise.  He tried to play it off with a smirk, but his expressive eyes and lifted brows had already given away his embarrassment.  “You’re timing is terrible, Iris.  If you had only waited a few more seconds you could have seen the _full monty_.”

 

Iris laughed, her jaw dropping slightly in shock of Barry’s overt flirtatiousness. “I didn’t realize I was in for a show, _Magic Mike_.  Give me a break I haven’t even had my coffee yet.”  Iris felt her face flush at the fleeting thought of seeing Barry doing a strip tease just for her. “There’s a pot with your name on it," Barry yelled from the bathroom where he finished getting dressed.

 

Iris yawned and stretched, willing herself out of bed and towards the java fuel she so desperately needed. She remembered the Superman shirt being a lot longer than it actually was—it barely reached mid-thigh.  It was either the shirt or her dressy attire from last night… _shirt it is_ **.**

She returned from the small kitchen and sat on the futon, sipping on her full mug. **“** You’re working today, Bear?” Barry, clearly brushing his teeth, replied with a mouth full of toothpaste.  “Ah gatta go Staw Wabs, hewp Wews.”  Iris rolled her eyes at his goofiness.  A couple of minutes ago she thought he might have been body snatched and replaced with someone, or some _thing_ , with the Flash’s cockiness.  But no, he was definitely still himself.  And that made her happier than she thought possible…and Barry _even_ more lovable.

 

The name ‘Barry’, the word ‘love’--and its variants-- were eternally connected in Iris’ mind.  She knew she loved him.  She had said it over and over in her dreams last night.  She had said it many times a day during the nine months he was floating in the ether between this world and the next.  _I love you, Barry_ was the internal mantra that had given her heart both the strength to hope, and enough weight to dissolve into oblivion. 

 

But now Barry was _here_ , very alive, and she was all too aware of every part of him.  His soulful green eyes, especially, were clear and intense in their affection for her.  It’s not that she had been blind to them before, quite the opposite.  In truth—the emotion in his eyes overwhelmed her--always had. She would look at them and every nerve in her body was stimulated, zapped with energy.  But she _just_ couldn’t risk it.  They had to have this connection, deep and enduring; and she would rather be guaranteed to have it as best friends, a definite sure thing, and keep him as a lover only in her whims.

 

Besides, romantic relationships were a slippery slope, and Iris was especially cynical having just gotten out of one.  One that she didn’t like to admit she never would have been in without having lost Barry for almost a year. 

 

She basically mourned his death, like a forlorn widow, and she was dangling near the acceptance stage in her grief process when she and Eddie officially started dating.  Leading up to that turning point, after having visited Barry’s lifeless body for the hundredth time--there had been hugs, and Eddie’s arms and shoulders drenched in tears.  He’d rub her back soothingly, sort of the way Barry used to, but not the same at all.  He’d tell her he was ‘there for her anytime’, something Barry would say, except when he had spoken those words they held infinitely more meaning.

Finally, in a moment of powerful need for distraction, _physical_ distraction, she kissed Eddie.  She willed herself to try and forget Barry for the duration of that kiss, but instead she gave in and tried to imagine _every_ detail of his lips, the heat of his body, and the subtle strength of his grasp.

 

Breaking her train of reflection, Iris spoke. “Bear, I think I’m gonna call a cab and head home. I need to shower and change. I promise to pay you back for the fare.”

 

Barry strode into the cramped living area, fully dressed, but wearing a sly grin.  His vibe is _so_ different today, Iris thought.  Barry looked Iris over briefly; making her feel more naked than she already was in just his shirt.  “Oh I already brought you some clothes,” he said as if it were common knowledge.

 

Iris was dumbfounded by the news. Barry started to explain. “I was up at least an hour before you so I went by Joe’s and brought you two different sets of separates to match together however you like…and a dress option…and a pair of shoes and boots.  And I also brought most of your toiletries from the bathroom and your favorite perfume.”

 

“Wait, _what_?!  You _really_ didn’t need to go to that trouble, Barry. You must be like two hours late for Wells and company at S.T.A.R labs.”

 

“Two and a half so far, but they’re used to it. They know me.  It’s your day off, right?  I thought we could do break-, well brunch I guess.  We haven’t hung out and really talked in a while so I didn’t want to miss the opportunity.  _Please_ tell me that’s okay??” He appeared uneasy about the unreadable expression Iris’ face had held for a while now.

 

Iris was impressed, but also apprehensive and she wasn’t sure why. “Yeah, no, of course.  That was just incredibly sweet of you to think of me and…us spending some quality time.  And you thought of everyth-…wait you did bring some of my umm… _underwear_ , right?”

 

Barry hung his head, and coyly looked up at Iris from under his lashes.  “I forgot, Iris…I was in a rush…I’m sorry.  But...commando is a really popular way to go these days.  And everyone went commando under their petticoats and whatnot back in the day.”  Barry couldn’t keep up his charade and broke out into hysterical laughter when he watched Iris’ face contort into a dramatic display of skepticism.

 

Barry pulled out a large duffel bag from the closet. “Here. _Everything_ you need should be there,” he assured with a hint of mischief in his voice.  “Thanks, Bear.  You _really_ did not need to go all out.”  “Maybe…” he said, “… but I _really_ wanted to.” 

 

Iris didn’t understand why this day felt so different, he felt so different.  It was as if she knew her life was about to change and she was powerless to stop it, and _oddly_ slightly okay with that.

 

Iris showered and dressed.  She gasped at Barry’s underwear selection.  He brought two bras and two pairs of panties, a red set and a black set, all of them lace. She chose black, and paired it with skinny jeans, a mid-drift teasing sleeveless top and black boots. 

 

“Hmm…I have better taste in women’s clothes than I thought,” Barry grinned widely.  “Ok, not bad, Barry.  Not bad,” Iris narrowly resisted the urge to roll her eyes.  “But you’re easy.  You look hot-,  _haute_ _couture_ in everything.”  Iris laughed, but didn’t miss Barry’s slip-up. “Bear, look at you.  _Haute couture_ …who knew _you_ knew _.”_   

Barry shrugged. “I must have overheard part of an episode of that show... _what is it called_...oh... _Project Runway_.  It’s Caitlin’s guilty pleasure when she takes a break at the lab.”  “I see,” Iris smirked in reply.

 

They walked to a small café nearby called Toujours .  It wasn’t crowded, so they found a table near the back for some privacy.  Iris ordered beignets and mimosas for the two of them. 

 

Iris looked at Barry with the utmost sincerity.  “I’m glad we’re here.  It’s so good to _see you_ , _see you_ …like old times.”  Except this wasn’t like old times, _or maybe it was_.  The space between them buzzed with the same electricity that had existed since they were teenagers.  And Barry’s eyes still showed more than she thought she could handle.  And she still wanted to simultaneously cuddle up in his arms and be restrained by those same arms while he did sinful things to her body. 

 

“It’s always good, more than good, being around you, Iris.”  Barry grabbed Iris’ hand, and she must have stopped breathing because her head felt _so_ light and her skin tingled in anticipation of something unknown.

 

Barry still held onto her hand, caressing his thumb over her knuckles as she opened her mouth to ease some of her anxiety. “So I know I never told you what happened with Eddie. And I will go into more detail if you want me to.  But what you need to know, what _I_ need you to know, is that I was never in love with him.”

 

Barry’s gaze never faltered as if he had never been so sure ever before in his life. “I know.” 

 

Iris gave him a look of bewilderment.  “What do you mean?  I never talked to you in depth about my feelings for Eddie.”

 

“Exactly, Iris.  That’s how I know you didn’t love him.” He paused. “Look we’ve always told each other basically everything.  Even what was left unsaid was always communicated on some level.  I probably know you better than I know myself.  If you loved Eddie, you would not have been able to keep yourself from gushing about him, how great he was.  Yes, you two were the king and queen of PDA, but I wasn’t really convinced.  It still _hurt_ seeing you two, when I knew it should be me instead of him, but there was something off about you two that relieved some of my jealousy.  It felt like, for your part, you were putting on a show…mostly for yourself.  You were trying so hard to love him, to really feel it, bone deep…but…it just didn’t come naturally.”

 

Iris felt like her lips were glued shut.  Barry’s insight into her interactions with Eddie terrified her.  All she could think about was what else she might have “told Barry” without meaning to.

 

“When I came back to you, when I saw your face and you ran into my arms--that’s love.”  Iris felt her heart explode into a percussive frenzy.  She could not make a sound; all she could do was burn holes into Barry’s head with her silent gaze. “We could say it’s platonic love, two best friends who grew up together like family…and that’s definitely true.  But we _both_ know it’s more than that.  And I’m _damn_ tired of us ignoring it.”  Barry’s grip on her tightened as he lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed her fingers, never tearing his eyes away from her face.

 

“I _know_ you feel the same, Iris.  And I’m _here_.  I’m not going anywhere.”  Iris could not stop her ducts from welling over, spilling streams of salty tears on her cheeks.  “ _Please_ , life is too short, too hard and already complicated enough to be in denial, in fear of loving each other.  Fighting something this strong...is _actually_ physiologically very dangerous.  I can’t, I won’t anymore.  I _need_ you, I _want_ you.  I love you _so_ much, Iris.”

 

Iris somehow manages to let some air into her lungs and breath out shallow, staggered breaths.  She is standing on the precipice and her heart wants to jump, but her mind is screaming in vain for self-preservation.

 

“I do love you, Barry!  I love you _so_ much that when you were gone, I literally did not know how to _function_.  My work suffered, my academic career suffered, my overall _will to live_ suffered!  It _scared_ me…loving someone that much.  So it was easier for me to continue telling myself we were only best friends, because I was afraid that once I labeled you something more…the universe, fate, whatever… would try more fervently to take you away from me again.   And then since you came back, I…I don’t know.  With you constantly at S.T.A.R. labs I thought maybe you weren’t fully recovered and you didn’t want to tell me.  I know you’re Barry, the man I’ve known for most of my life who’s sentences I can finish and who’s body language I can read like a book, yet other times you seem like a different person, but…not always in a _bad_ way.  I can’t explain it, I just… _feel_ it…and I _hate_ that feeling of not knowing, especially when it concerns _you_.”

 

Barry swallowed and finally broke eye contact for a moment. “Do you love the Flash, too?” 

 

Iris arched a brow. “Barry are you being serious right now?  No I don’t love the Flash.  I believe in what he’s doing, he’s awe-inspiring and enigmatic, a fascination--but that’s it.”

 

“Well that’s too bad…because I can tell you--right now and with absolute certainty--that the Flash loves you as much as I do, _Iris West_ ,” Barry professed, vibrating his vocal chords as he emphasized her name.

 

Iris’ eyes doubled in size.  “ _Bear--…how’d--…_ oh…my…god.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! Thanks again for continuing to read this story. I hope this chapter was at least decent enough, and somewhat enjoyable. I gave it my best shot. :)


	4. Seeing Red

As a symphony of emotions played across Iris’ face, it became very clear to Barry that even this small, empty café was not nearly private enough.  Barry placed a couple of twenties on the table, quickly skimmed the area for prying eyes, and abruptly transported them out of their seats and back to his apartment.  Iris was attempting to push him away from her before he could set her on her feet.

 

“Why are we back here, Barry?  What, you thought you’d tell me you were the Flash and I’d drop my panties like some groupie? 

 

“No!  Iris I know I should have told you sooner, but Joe…we both thought it might…” 

 

“Put me in danger, of course, I knew that’s what you would say.  But you _lied_ to me Barry, tried to make me feel ridiculous for pursuing the idea of someone like… _you_.  You’ve never hurt me as much as you did in those moments, until now.  Because now…I can’t believe you would talk me down the way you did, when you _knew_ that _you_ were the fucking Flash, Barry.  That’s just a level of deceit and disrespect I didn’t think you were capable of…not to the face of your best friend and _woman you love._ I’m not some fragile doll needed to be protected.  _Every_ day of life, for every person on this earth, is a _risk_.  And I’m not some shrinking violet, or brainless idiot who doesn’t know how to defend herself, as you _well_ know.”

 

Barry parts his lips to speak, his jade orbs glassy and pleading.

 

“Let me finish, _Flash_.  I know you love me, and I _understand_ that you and my dad had the best intentions in terms of trying to fulfill your roles as the shielding men in my life, but you obviously didn’t give one thought to how I would _feel_ when I found out…because I _would_ have found out, Barry.” 

 

Barry sped up to meet Iris’ defiant stance, mere centimeters away from her face.  He outlined her delicate features and watched her eyes wax poetic with the glow of an inferno and the stillness of deep waters. He captured her quivering lips, slowly savoring the fullness of her pouty bottom and tracing his tongue across the flesh of the top.  

 

She responded with a violent hunger, attacking his mouth with hostile nips and biting down eagerly on occasion to accentuate both her still smoldering anger and rapidly escalating desire.  Barry quieted the fury of her teeth and tongue by devouring her, eliciting a feeble moan of protest from Iris’ throat.  His arms trapped her in a web of passion and she did nothing to escape, her hands desperately roaming his back, scraping firmly with her nails and reaching to fondle the nape of his neck as he hovered above her petite frame.  Barry reached up to cradle the sides of her face, calming the undulation of their mouths as he began to pull away just enough to look at her.  Their dewy lips lingered together for a time, finding comfort in the warm exchange of their breaths.

 

Barry bored his vulnerability into Iris’ eyes, their noses still connected in a tremulous touch.  “I am so, so sorry, Iris.  But I guess I was thinking I’d rather be able to do _this_ …have you with me, no matter what… _furious_ or not.  I know it doesn’t fully make sense, but at the time it seemed like the only option to keep you safe.  And you can hate me.  If _this_  is what your hate feels like-- oh I’ll definitely take it.  Because I know, when comes down to it, our _love_ will be that much stronger for it.”

 

Iris remained unresponsive for a brief time, and then offered a cynical laugh, giving Barry a little shove with her palms. 

 

“You think you’re hot shit don’t you _Barry_ , a.k.a _Flash_.”  She poked him hard in the chest and gave him a deadly once over.  “Well I _do_ hate you… and yet I _can_ forgive you…because what’s the point of delaying the expected.  I’ll _always_ forgive you, because for some ungodly reason it’s impossible to stay mad at you… _much_ to my aggravation.  _Buut…_ I _am_ having some major trouble with the _forgetting_ part…hmmm.  And at present, I don’t think you can do anything to alleviate that problem.”

 

Barry lips curved into the slightest grin, as he detected an excitement behind Iris’ stare, and a challenge buried shallowly within her words.  “I’d love to try anyway, if you don’t mind.” 

 

Iris beamed coquettishly turning to head for the bathroom.  She came out minutes later with her hair in a high ponytail, wearing his Superman shirt and a pair of knee socks which he had no idea why he packed in the duffel, but he was glad he did because… _holy fuck…_ she was the most adorably sexy thing he’d ever seen.

 

“Popcorn and pizza, pleeease…kettle and pepperoni _, respectively_.”  She grabbed the comforter from his bed and perched herself on the futon in front of the television. 

 

Barry couldn’t have been more pleased with the day’s turn of events, hiccups and all other things considered.  “Yes, ma’am,” he called from the kitchen where he pulled the microwavable bag of kettle corn from the cabinet.  He picked up his phone to dial for pizza, but detoured to text Cisco letting him know he wasn’t going to make it to S.T.A.R labs.

 

**Barry:**   **Sorry can’t make it out there today…family emergency.**

Cisco:  Everything, ok?  Do I need to prep for crisis mode?

**Barry** :  **No, it’s ALL good, trust me. :)** **  
**

Cisco:  Ohh…that’s what I’m talkin’ about!!!  Go get your woman.  Mad, mad, skills…respect.

 

Barry chuckled at Cisco’s awesome combination of perceptiveness and silliness, and proceeded to order two large pizzas, one pepperoni and one with peppers and olives. 

 

Iris pointed with both hands to the classic logo on the shirt she was wearing, and quirked a questioning eyebrow at Barry.  He nodded enthusiastically.  They were going to watch one of their favorite movies growing up, well Barry’s favorite anyway.  She enjoyed it too, but mostly just loved how happy it made him.

 

He didn’t think it was possible to love Iris any more than he did in that instant.  He was supposed to be groveling, catering to her every wish, and she still managed to show her selflessness and unconditional love for him by suggesting they watch _his_ favorite movie.  

 

An hour and a half later, Iris had annihilated the popcorn and half of her pizza, while Barry had eaten his entire monstrosity _and_ the leftover half of her pie. Barry had changed into an undershirt and pajama pants, and the pair of them had somehow managed to settle pretty comfortably on the futon from hell.

 

Indeed, Iris _had_ thrown a few daggers at Barry during the movie, when events hit a little too close to home with Clark keeping his identity from Lois and all.  But he remembered that when they were younger, she always perked up during the balcony scene-- that’d always been her favorite.  When Lois asks Superman what color underwear she’s wearing and eventually he’s able to see that she’s wearing pink and apparently he likes pink ‘very much’.  Iris had grown to find this dialogue even more stimulating once she was mature enough to actually get the innuendo regarding the color ‘pink’. 

 

Barry knew that scene was coming up so he grabbed her and snuggled closer, pulling her back against his chest, his arms enclosing her.  As the scene began, she tilted her head around to leer up at Barry knowingly. 

 

Once the act played out, Barry could feel the rising fever of their bodies more intently and there was a noticeable shift in tone, the atmosphere now unbearably thick with everything unresolved. 

 

Iris turned her whole body, _very_ slowly, and seductively moved to face Barry, straddling him one leg at a time.  She picked up the remote and turned off the movie. 

 

Barry swallowed, feeling himself become ridged under the heat of her pelvis.

 

“So…I guess you’re not that into the mov--,” Barry said softly before being interrupted by Iris’ finger over his lips.

 

Her expression was gravely serious, as she studied his face carefully.  “I’ve been wanting to ask you something, Bear.  It’s very important that you do your best to answer honestly.” 

 

Barry smirked sexily, and before Iris could say another word, she felt a gust of air underneath her shirt.  

 

“Red,” Barry whispered to her in a low rasp.

 

Iris was speechless, stunned and currently being lift-- …well, ok, so now she was in the bed.

 

Barry loomed over her, his eyes filled with his usual kaleidoscope of emotion but compounded with shadows of ravenous lust that made Iris ache with need and ooze with anticipation. He made his unhurried decent towards her lower body, planting soft kisses on her neck and collarbone, then inching down to her breasts where lifted her he nipped playfully and sucked comfortingly.

 

Iris’ skin prickled, her nerves on overdrive from the sensual exploration of Barry’s mouth and hands. She moaned, modestly at first, and then her breathing became slightly more erratic as he massaged her stomach, licked her belly button and caressed her thighs… closer and closer to the apex of her arousal.  

 

Barry ran his finger along the lacy pattern of her panties, looking up to lock eyes with the woman of his dreams, his long-time best friend.

 

“As I’m sure you know, Iris West, I _do_ like red very much…”

 

Iris laughed ever so lightly, biting her lip to calm herself as she watched Barry watching her while he rubbed her swollen, moist flesh through the transparent lace. 

 

“…but I like _pink_ even more.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Thanks again for reading. I do read all of the comments you take the time to post, and I cannot underscore enough just how much your words are appreciated. I'm thinking I will do one more chapter and that'll probably be it. Hope you're still enjoying it thus far. :)

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading my first ever fic!


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